


Long Time No See

by Shiro_Kabocha



Series: Dorm Life at Garreg Mach Monastery [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Claude/Dimitri (background relationship), Dorm Life - Freeform, Drunk Sex, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 18:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20625569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiro_Kabocha/pseuds/Shiro_Kabocha
Summary: Felix returns from a long mission, but it's late and Linhardt isn't in his room, so Felix goes to bed thinking he'll find the wayward scholar in the morning.  Little did he know Linhardt doesn't want to wait that long...





	Long Time No See

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you wanted more Felix x Linhardt, because here's more Felix x Linhardt!

Felix rolled his shoulder, still stiff from the healing he’d endured upon returning to the monastery. He’d spent the last hour sitting on the floor of his dorm room, cleaning and polishing all the weapons and armor he’d used during the last mission, because exhaustion was no excuse not to care for tools that kept one alive on the battlefield. Now each armament lay precisely arrayed around him, each one shining with oil and polish, Felix too exhausted to worry about storing them properly before bed. After healing, taking care of his weapons had been the first thing on his mind upon returning to the monastery. Well, perhaps “first thing” wasn’t exactly right…

The Blue Lions had been away on assignment for almost a week and prior to that, the Black Eagles had been away for five days. It marked the longest amount of time that Felix hadn’t been able to sleep with Linhardt since the two of them had gotten together several months ago. And despite the late hour, he’d gone straight to Linhardt’s room after his healing. He doubted the scholar would mind. In fact, he had expected Linhardt to still be awake and reading in bed.

He hadn’t expected to find the dorm room door locked. What was more, it didn’t seem that Linhardt was inside, judging by the darkness and silence beyond. Which most likely meant that Linhardt was pulling a late night in the library, chasing some obscure reference about crests but Felix was too tired to go looking for him. It was late, his mission had been long and healing always took a lot out of him.

Of course, he hadn’t considered that others in the dorms might be “reuniting” the way he’d hoped to reunite with Linhardt. Even if he hadn’t had equipment to maintain and polish, he would have been kept up by the moans, cries and thuds coming through the wall caused by his team leader, as well as the leader of the Golden Deer. It was only after they’d fallen silent that Felix even considered trying to sleep.

I could go look for Linhardt one more time, Felix thought, dousing the candles around his room. If he’s been in the library, it’s likely he doesn’t even know the Blue Lions returned yet.

But even as he thought it, Felix knew he was too tired. And without knowing if this was day one of Linhardt’s sleepless binge, or day three, it wasn’t truly worth the effort. He could find Linhardt tomorrow, after he’d rested. He doused the rest of his candles and slid into bed with a grateful sigh. The monastery might not be home, but it was a far cry better than sleeping on hard pallets on the ground during a march.

Only an hour or so later, Felix was sharply awoken by a sound at his door. It had started like a knock, but then something heavy had thudded against his door. Felix threw back the blankets, stepping carefully over pieces of armor and naked blades laid out on his floor. Perhaps Sylvain had been followed home by some crazed common girl and needed a place to hide--that had happened before. Or perhaps someone was getting amorous in the hallway, too distracted to make it to a dorm room. Felix couldn't think of any other reason for someone to be at his door so late at night.

He opened the door carefully, mindful of the weight pressed against the other side. Even so, a figure tumbled inside, fetching up against Felix's chest, arms wrapping around his shoulders, a mouth suddenly pressed against his. Felix barely had time to register the disheveled robes, the long green hair and a heavy, cloying scent before the figure reeled back, pulling him off-balance to peer at him through bleary, indigo eyes.

"Oh, good. I did count the correct number of doors. Welcome back, Felix."

"Linhardt." Felix wrapped an arm around the scholar's waist, supporting him as he swayed on his feet. Although they'd been sleeping together for months, it had always been in Linhardt's room, never Felix's. He tasted the kiss on his lips and smirked. "Have you been drinking?"

"That's hardly my fault," Linhardt insisted, trying for a put-upon air while trying to close the door. He missed a few times before huffing and casting a wind spell to slam the door shut. "All I wanted was a bite of dinner, but the dining hall apparently closed hours ago. How was I to know? I've been investigating the very essence of our blood, the reason for our stations in life and the least they could have done was set aside a plate for me."

"That doesn't explain how you got drunk," Felix pointed out, carefully guiding Linhardt's clumsy steps around the clutter of armor and arms lying about the floor.

"I said the dining hall was _closed_, but I never said was _empty_," Linhardt clarified with an affected air. "I found Dorothea drinking with Mercedes and Marianne and they invited me to join them. I was hungry, so I agreed."

"Uh huh." Well, that at least explained how Linhardt knew the Blue Lions had returned, if he'd run into Mercedes. "Somehow I doubt wine cured your hunger."

"Well, in a way," Linhardt demurred. His smirk was playful and his hands were working at the buttons on the cuff of his school uniform. His weight still rested heavily against Felix, as if he were doubtful of his ability to remain upright on his own. "After a few glasses of wine, I was hardly hungry anymore. Not for food, anyway."

Felix steadied Linhardt with one arm around his waist, the other helping with a troublesome button. Once it was free, he let his fingers smooth disheveled verdant locks of hair. "Not that I'm complaining, but how did you even know which room was mine? As far as I know, you've never come up here before."

"Oh, I had no idea which room was yours," Linhardt confessed. "I had to wake up Caspar and insist that he tell me. He told me to count five--no, six--" Linhardt's eyes went glassy for a moment before he shook his head to clear it. "Never mind. I found the right room and that's all that matters."

Felix chuckled. "You didn't stumble through any other doors and kiss anyone else on your way here, did you?"

"No, Caspar's instructions were more than adequate." Despite the careful word choice, Linhardt was beginning to slur his speech. He missed his step, nearly falling to the weapon-strewn floor. Felix had to twist and bend to catch him before hauling him upright again. Unperturbed, Linhardt continued: "Caspar likes you, you know. Not like how I like you. But he always talks about his training sessions with you and how strong you are."

"Does he?" At some point during their quasi-relationship, Felix had put together that Linhardt and Caspar had grown up together. They didn't talk much about their lives outside the monastery, as theirs was a more physical relationship than an emotional one. "I've always wondered why Caspar has a room upstairs and you have one downstairs, despite the fact that your families hold equivalent positions in the Empire. Since you're the heir to your house and Caspar isn't, I would have thought you'd get the upstairs dorm room."

"Oh, I did, actually," Linhardt confirmed. "But I couldn't be bothered to go up and down those stairs every day, so I made Caspar switch with me." Linhardt released a sigh that smelled of fermented fruit. "I didn't come here to talk about Caspar."

"Never for a moment did I believe you had." Felix held Linhardt by the shoulders, allowing the scholar the use of both hands to free himself from his belt. The satchel portion that usually carried a book or two or three crashed noisily to the floor, sending pieces of armor rolling. Linhardt turned to see what caused the noise and stepped on a bracer, nearly tumbling to the floor himself. Felix caught him and managed to stumble backwards, landing heavily on the edge of the bed, Linhardt heavy in his arms. "And as flattered as I am that you came to see me once you knew I was back, this can probably wait until tomorrow. When you're sober."

Linhardt huffed in irritation, situating himself so that he was sitting in Felix's lap. He drew one knee up so he could work at the laces on his boots. "I did underestimate the effects of four glasses of wine on an undernourished body that hasn’t slept in three days, I'll grant you that. But that doesn't mean I'm not still in control of my mind."

Watching Linhardt struggled unsuccessfully with his boot made Felix doubt that assertion.

Linhardt gave up the struggle after a moment and leaned fully into Felix's chest, head resting on his shoulder, lips brushing his neck as he spoke: "Don't you want to? I've missed you greatly."

"I do want to." Felix was having a hard time convincing himself it would be better to wait. Linhardt wasn't making it easy on him. "But so long as you can't undress yourself, I don't think there's much we can do until morning."

"By morning, I will be terribly dehydrated and not in any condition to do anything fun," Linhardt pointed out, remarkably aware despite the slur in his speech. "And there is plenty we can do even if I can't get out of my clothes."

Before Felix could do or say anything in protest, Linhardt slithered out of his grip, knees hitting the floor in a way he suspected would be painful for a more cogent person. His fingers were nimble enough to finesse the draw-band around Felix's loose-cut pants (he knew most people slept naked, but he preferred to be combat-ready, just in case of a night attack). There was only a flash of smirking indigo eyes before Linhardt drew Felix's firm member out of his pants and pressed it against his lips.

"Linhardt, you don't--" Felix's protest was cut short by warmth, wetness and light pressure. His words turned to a strangled moan as Linhardt bobbed his head, fingers sliding loosely along his length. Felix had half a thought to push Linhardt away, but instead his fingers tangled in Linhardt's hair, freeing it from the loose tail it was in and holding it back off his face as his mouth slid up and down, a wonder of sensation and pleasure.

How drunk is he? one detached part of Felix's mind wondered. He's still brilliant, obviously, but he can barely stand, and he admitted to not having eaten or slept in a few days. Was it taking advantage of Linhardt to just let him do what he wanted to do? It was getting harder to worry about such things as Linhardt expertly brought Felix's blood to a boil, heat and need pooling in his stomach. A scrape of teeth had him moaning again, mouth falling open to pant softly.

"Linhardt...wait, stop." Felix felt a familiar wave beginning to crest within him.

"Stop?" Linhardt asked, hand still sliding as he looked up to meet Felix's eyes. His lips were dark and wet, his usually neat hair in fucked-out disarray. "If you're holding back, then surely that means you wish to continue."

"I do. Really." Felix swallowed hard, his attention split between speaking and the slick-slide of the hand on his cock. "But I don't keep anything here for--for that."

They always got together in Linhardt's room, where jars of scented oil were hidden beneath the bed to help with the slide. The closest thing Felix kept in his room was weapon maintenance oil and he was certain it was far from the same thing.

Linhardt merely blinked, barely seeming to understand, then he twisted around to grope behind him for something lost among Felix's scattered armor. Felix sighed in relief as, distracted, Linhardt neglected to continue stroking his cock.

"Here." Linhardt had found his satchel and pressed it into Felix's hands. He stood, stripping off the remains of his shirt as Felix opened the satchel, expecting a book but instead finding a familiar wooden box.

"You brought this up with--"

"Yes, I did." Linhardt shoved the box aside to straddle Felix's lap, his knees on either side of Felix’s hips, his fingers carding through Felix's hair as he kissed him deeply and thoroughly. "If all that's stopping you is my clothing, then remove it, Felix. It's a simple matter, after all."

Fuck it, Felix decided. If Linhardt had the wherewithal to stop by his room, grab the box of oils and handkerchiefs, then ask Caspar which room was Felix's and actually find that room, then he was more than capable of making his own decisions. Felix shifted Linhardt sideways on his lap, holding him around the waist and kissing him as he hurriedly unlaced the boots that had given Linhardt trouble earlier.

"I figured you'd come around," Linhardt said somewhat smugly, kicking the first boot free. "Innuendo implied."

Felix snorted. "You present a very convincing argument. I hope you remember it in the morning."

"I believe I'll wake up regretting four glasses of wine, a headache and nausea." Linhardt pressed his forehead against Felix's locking their gazes. "But never this."

The second boot came free and Felix helped Linhardt stand so he could slide off his pants. Felix took the moment to shuck off his own clothes, rumpled and half-off as they were, before tugging Linhardt back down to the bed. Hands traced well-known paths by now, lips teasing tender spots along flesh, hips rocking softly against each other.

"Mm. Here. Get me ready." Linhardt pressed a pot of oil into Felix's hands before pushing him back against the wall, straddling his lap and carding his hair as they kissed. Felix fumbled with the jar for a moment before dipping his fingers in a scooping up a fair amount. He shoved the jar away before reaching around behind Linhardt, following the divet of his spine down to the crevice between his cheeks. He felt Linhardt widen his legs a little, back arching into the touch, even as the kisses on his face and neck continued. This was new: Linhardt was rarely so active during their sessions, preferring to lie back and let Felix take the lead instead. This angle of preparation was different, too, but still simple enough that Felix soon had Linhardt moaning as he circled the puckered entrance with an oiled finger.

Linhardt gasped Felix's name in his ear as he tried to press back on Felix's fingers. Grinning, Felix wrapped one arm around Linhardt's waist, pulling him flush against his own body pressed against the wall and took his time teasing that ring of muscle, enjoying every moan he could wring from his lover. When he finally sunk in up to his knuckle, Linhardt threw his head back in a keening wail, thrusting backwards for more contact, eyes hazy and lost. Felix leaned forward to lip and suck the column of pale, exposed throat as he worked his fingers in and out of Linhardt, reveling in every moan and yelp. He felt nails dig into his shoulders from Linhardt holding onto him when all it seemed he could do was shudder in pleasure. He felt Linhardt's cock hot and heavy between them, leaking a steady stream of precum down his stomach and as the vibration of another moan shivered through his chest, Felix removed his fingers and reached between the two of them, using the remnants of the oil to slick himself up.

"Let me," Linhardt said breathily, but still fairly cogent for someone drunk of both wine and pleasure. They moved, making space on the bed, but to Felix's surprise, he found himself pressed down into the pillows, Linhardt looming over him. There was a brief moment of panic--he had no frame of reference for being the one on his back--but then Linhardt was straddling Felix's hips and understanding took him.

"You don't have to--"

"I want to," Linhardt assured him, reaching behind himself to give Felix's length a few good strokes. Linhardt's eyes were half-lidded, his face and chest flushed with the heat of arousal. Slowly, he sank backwards, taking Felix's length inside of him. Felix couldn't help but moan at the sight, his hands gripping Linhardt's waist to stabilize him. For all that he acted as if he were in control, Linhardt was still swaying just a little and a fall would likely cut their pleasure short.

Linhardt's eyes fell shut as his ass met Felix's hips, an almost rapturous expression on his face. He rolled his hips once, earning a strangled cry from Felix, then ground down, licking his lips as if in satisfaction. Just as Felix was getting impatient enough to consider setting the pace from below, Linhardt leaned back to place his hands behind him on the bed. His body arched like a bow, Linhardt began to move, sliding up and grinding down in long, languid movements.

Felix couldn't help the first cry that wrangled itself free of his throat. Linhardt was beautiful, limned by moonlight coming in through the curtained window, his hair free and long, spilling down his back like a silken shadow. His chest heaved with breath, the cords of his neck stood out in stark relief, dark lashes lay heavy on his cheek. His movements were torturously slow, but a wonder to watch. Felix's fingers dug into Linhardt's hips, and when he could no longer stand the slow and steady pace, he pulled Linhardt down while snapping his hips up at the same time.

Linhardt screamed, body curling forward, hands gripping Felix's forearms, his eyes flickering open to meet Felix's with a smile of reckless abandon. Felix felt the flex of Linhardt's thighs as he rose again, only to be pulled back down over and over again in a pace that was approaching frenzied. Linhardt moaned and shouted, screamed and shivered. His fingers were digging into Felix's arms as his thighs began to tremble, muscles convulsing around Felix. One hand unclasped itself from Felix's arm to wrap itself around his own erection, leaving behind dark marks on Felix's skin. Linhardt took himself in hand, giving over control of the rhythm to Felix in favor of stroking himself, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen and partially open, cries still spilling from his throat.

It ended with a long, drawn out wail from Linhardt and a violent shout from Felix. In all honesty, Felix could not say who finished first. He remembered his final thrust, hands pulling Linhardt firmly down against him as he rode the waves of his pleasure at the same moment that he felt Linhardt's ecstasy landing on his chest and stomach in warm, thick tendrils. He remembered the doe-eyed blink of Linhardt's indigo eyes, the tiny smile that signaled both satisfaction and sleepiness. Linhardt swayed, but Felix held him up, keeping him pinned until every last pulse had ended. He watched as Linhardt's breathing slowed, his eyes blinking sleepily, making it impossible to tell the difference between Linhardt's drunken state and his usual post-coital lethargy.

Three loud bangs hit the wall in succession, making them both tense and jump.

"Quiet down over there!" A familiar, usually playful voice shouted through the wall. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

To Felix's utter surprise and delight, Linhardt hammered back against the wall. He had to keep tight hold of Linhardt’s waist as the scholar threatened to fall in the direction he was leaning. "Then stop listening, you pervert! You're not either of our house leaders, so stop telling us what to do!"

Felix covered his mouth, dissolving into silent laughter as voices continued on the far side of the wall, too soft to hear except for their tones: One moderately jeering, the other low and soothing. He heard the scrape of bedposts on the floor as the low, soothing voice seemed to win out over the jeering one. He actually missed the moment when Linhardt rose and shifted off of him. Felix just barely caught him as the scholar lost his balance, nearly tumbling to the floor.

"Mm, thanks," Linhardt said, settling bonelessly overtop of Felix. Felix shifted, shrugging Linhardt onto his side, head resting on Felix's shoulder, so he could sweep the floor with his hand, coming up with a handkerchief from the box Linhardt had brought with him. He swiped the worst of the mess from his chest, then offered the cloth to Linhardt. The scholar was halfway asleep already, so instead Felix cleaned his hand as best as possible in the dark and let the cloth fall to the floor. As his still-pounding heart began to slow, Felix listened to Linhardt's soft, deep breaths and the creak of bedropes from the room next door. He chuckled softly.

"I think we got those two started up again," Felix commented, a low moan through the wall affirming his guess.

Linhardt murmured sleepily. "Wake me up in an hour or so if you feel like competing with them. If you can wake me. I'm staying the night, by the way, I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind."

"Good. Because I wasn't going to leave if you did."

Felix chuckled again, feeling relaxed and satisfied and oddly bemused as the sounds from the next room intensified. He turned his head to bury his nose in Linhardt's hair. "That was amazing, by the way. Feel free to come by drunk more often."

Linhardt gave an indelicate snort. "We'll see how you feel about it in the morning. I'll be expecting you to bring me mint tea around lunchtime. And maybe soup. Check first; I'm not sure yet."

"Do you think you'll need a healer?" Felix asked.

Linhardt chuckled sleepily. "Mercedes and the others were still drinking when I left. If you can find a healer who isn't hungover tomorrow, they have a stronger stomach than I."

Felix chuckled at the thought of Mercedes with a hangover. It was as difficult to picture as it was to envision Linhardt training with an actual weapon. A muffled thump and a groan from next door earned another snort from Linhardt.

"Amateurs," he muttered, snuggling in closer to Felix's side. While yawning, he added: "I can see why you spend so many nights in my room."

Before Felix could respond, Linhardt's body tensed, his shoulders curling in, his stomach convulsing. It ended as quickly as it started, Linhardt relaxing with a sour-scented exhale.

"On second thought, don't wake me up to compete with them tonight," Linhardt said, one hand rubbing his midsection. "I think I'd rather sleep through as much of this as possible."

"If you're going to be ill, do it off the side of the bed," Felix ordered, one hand rubbing soothing circles into Linhardt's back.

"No promises," Linhardt replied. With a final yawn, he curled into Felix's side and fell asleep. Felix drifted off wondering if he'd have to get Linhardt drunk again for a repeat of tonight's performance--preferably with Dimitri and Claude in the next room again for a little "friendly competition."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to continue my rarepair obsession with these two! I have one more fic idea for Felix and Linhardt (maybe involving a furred cloak and the library???) but I'd be interested in writing more one-shots for this series. So who else is getting it on in the dorms? Any other rarepairs I should write? OT3s? Tell me if you have a fun idea in the comments or via [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ShiroKabocha1)!


End file.
